I stood there taking in the sights and sounds: the water as it gently
lapped the bank, the playful twitter of what I could only assume were
birds of some sort as I couldn't see anything through the dense foliage,
the tall - monstrously tall - trees, thick with leaves of deep green, gold, red, orange, and purple (I swear - purple leaves!).
How had he done that? How had Mr. Throgmorgenson transported me here?
This island shouldn't exist anymore. The Naterans took care of that
hundreds of years ago, and yet here I am. I'm not complaining. I mean,
this is amazing. Awesome. I scanned the landscape, but it was impossible
to see anything through the pack of trees that stood at attention like a
massive army. The center of the island could be mountains, or valleys, a
huge crater, or maybe marshes, it could be forest all the way through
to the other side. There was only one way to find out. I headed inland,
but just as I began to walk, enjoying the peace and the time to think, I
heard the scream. It stopped me cold in my tracks. "Sam?" I whispered and began to run in the direction of that blood-curdling sound.
My husband and I recently watched The Help - a story about a group of African American women who worked as maids in Jackson, Mississippi in the '60s. One of the protagonists works for a woman "who got no b'ness havin' babies." This woman, this family maid and nanny, tells her little two year old ward regularly, "You is pretty. You is smart. You is impor'ant." How difficult it is for us to believe that about ourselves - really, to believe anything good about ourselves. I always try to be my raw self when I write a blog post. Today is no exception. So I confess that I've been drowning in a storm of lies lately. My head knows they're lies, and I could easily tell anyone else in the same place that they're lies, but I haven't been able to get a grip. There have been so many of them coming at me at once. It seems that I just break the surface, gulp some fresh air of truth then get pulled back under. One thing I know: the enemy of our ...
Dang... don't leave us hanging like that! Was it really Sam? What was wrong? Was it as bad as she feared?
ReplyDeleteI MUST KNOW!!!
;-)